Mulling over the sands of time
one hand gently drops over the other.
Yielding now, the grains fall
like liquid velvet.
Melted beyond measure,
like fur petted softly,
there is no way to capture
the pre-existent creature
rubbing against cosmic filaments
of fine quartz and fossil.
Wherever they rest,
whether bathed in light,
or basted in heat,
or moistened by sea foam,
the ever-changing changlessness
dips and rolls and intermingles,
softening ever so patiently,
through eons of time.
Imperceptibly blessing itself
into finer and finer particles,
the sparkling dust
is carried away on the air,
lifted into the continuing cycles of nature.
So thoroughly embodied
with the breath of the sky father,
the clouds welcome
the new ones into their folds
and expand with the weight.
New energies,
stronger than before,
ready to come forth.
floating within sunset hues,
passive... waiting for dusk
to overtake the day
and put to sleep the overactive world;
like hidden thoughts,
they give birth to new dreams.
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Welcome
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Make yourself at home. Put your feet up. Grab your favorite beverage and prepare to enjoy the reads.
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Make yourself at home. Put your feet up. Grab your favorite beverage and prepare to enjoy the reads.
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Saturday
3 comments:
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Your poem is quite a gem! The images of time are like time itself constantly ticking and constantly changing, like Dali's melting clocks.
ReplyDeleteYour work on this blue wall excites the poet within so much.
Thank you, Ciss!
ReplyDeleteThis intellectually difficult. I had to read it twice to appreciate the beautiful nature. Thank you for stimulating my mind.
ReplyDelete